Can't remember to forget you
by wsinclaire
Summary: Takes place directly after "Agent Afloat". What happens when Tony and Ziva get back to Washington...
1. Chapter 1

Rating: M for language and content

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended; these characters belong to NCIS, I own nothing.

Pairing: Ziva D./ Tony D.

Okay, so I stole the title from a song, but I love the idea behind it.

This story takes place immediately after "Agent Afloat", and I am intending for this to be a multiple chapter project.

Thank you everybody for reading, I hope you enjoy it immensely. x

WS

"Thanks for the ride," Tony said and released a breath he didn't know he was holding.

White knuckles relaxed, he opened and closed his fists a few times.

God, he'd missed her. Her driving...not so much. After all those months at sea he might have come close, but he still didn't have that death wish.

She switched off the engine and smiled. Not at him. At the road. At the street light. At something ahead. At nothing.

"Wow. Deja vu all over again," he laughed and it sounded forced. Uncomfortable. Nervous.

Instead of throwing him a lifeline, she left him hanging; alone in the awkward silence.

"Don't worry, Ziv-ah, we don't have to talk about it," he told her. "It's okay."

It wasn't.

"I mean, it's been four months. A lot of water has flown under the bridge...or the ship in my case."

She didn't respond, and he wanted to shake her.

"I guess after California we just got caught up in...exceptional circumstances," he continued. "These things happen..."

She was still holding on to the steering wheel, still looking ahead, her dark eyes heavy with the night. God, she was beautiful.

"Anyway. I'll see you tomorrow?"

She hadn't moved, hadn't shifted her focus from the empty road ahead, he couldn't even tell if she was still breathing.

He opened the door quickly. Get out, DiNozzo, get out and walk away before you say something stupid. But he couldn't help himself. "Just one thing. I couldn't help noticing...in Cartagena, and on the flight...Ziva, you couldn't stop looking at me. And now we're alone you've got nothing to say to me? How?"

"Tony...I..." she trailed off, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"Wow, Ziva. Really? He must be one hell of a guy," he laughed a laugh that didn't suit him, and she finally found her voice.

"Tony...I...I missed you," she told him, and he wanted so much to believe her.

"You see, Ziva, that's funny, because that's what I thought when I saw you standing there with Gibbs. But then I looked a little too deep into your pretty eyes, and what do I find find? You didn't miss me at all. You have been busy...moving on." His tone sounded rehearsed, light-hearted, like it didn't matter, but his venom was potent.

"That is not what happened. Tony," she said.

"Oh? Enlighten me then, Officer David. And don't go easy on me, because, trust me, after four moths of the assignment from hell, I am ready for just about anything."

"Tony." She took a deep breath. "After California...I did not think..."

"What? Ziva?"

"I did not think I was going to see you again, and ...you know..."

"I know what? Ziva? After California what? We slept together and Bon Voyage?" his voice was too loud for the car, and they listened to the silence that followed.

"You've got to be kidding me," he whispered.

"Tony. That night was about a lot of things, but it was not about us," she told him.

"That night, Ziva, was about nothing but us. And you know it."

He could feel the distance between them grow, and he filled it with as much hurt as he could conjure up.

"Well, I suppose, c'est la vie, but just for the record. Do you know how many women have ever...EVER...spend the night at my place?"

She looked into his eyes and shook her head.

"One, Ziva. You. God, I'm even more tragic than McGee," he said and hit the dashboard hard.

His head was pounding with longing and anger and disappointment, he couldn't tell which one was the predominant sensation, but he guessed it was anger, and so he opened the door and got out, and he wasn't going to turn back.

Only by the time he got to his door did he realize, he had neither his keys nor his bag.

"Damn," he punched the wall so hard that he saw stars. "Ouch, damn."

"Tony. Your bag," she said, her voice gentle yet stern. She caught up with him and threw his duffel down by his feet. He exhaled audibly, and he thought for a moment, that he watched her relax, too.

"Maybe, Tony, let us try again?" she suggested.

"Look, Ziva, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bombard you with all this shit. It's just that I haven't spoken to a friend in months. And I missed you."

The faintest of smiles crept across her face. He wasn't imagining it.

"I missed you, too," she told him, and he took her into his arms.

He had thought about this moment over and over again, and now that it had arrived he couldn't help but feel completely stunned; like he was outside his body watching himself and her melting into the most tender of embraces.

His body remembered her entirely and completely, and she, too, held him with that aching notion that it had been too long without.

"Let's go inside," he suggested much later. "I'm not in the mood for any of my neighbours right now," he whispered in her ear, and he swore that he felt her shiver.

He found the keys and unlocked the door. "I wonder what they made of Abby coming and going at all hours..."

"Abby fed the fish? Yes?" Ziva asked, and her tone amused him.

"Yes, Abby fed the fish. And you know that the fish is called Kate, Ziva. Kate," he pronounced it carefully, and opened the door for her.

Ziva went straight to the fish bowl. "Hmmmmm," he remarked, and Tony wondered what was going on in that pretty little head of hers.

"It's cold in here," he noticed and started playing with the thermostat.

"Are you missing Cartagena already?"

"Not in a million years. Cartagena is a hell-hole. I'll die a happy man if I never have set foot in it again. But anyway, how's your life? Done anything interesting lately? Or anyone?" he asked and she shook her head.

"Tony..."

He looked at her.

"Why, Ziva? Why? Just explain it to me."

She started pacing, and he watched her with intent, wondering what she would come out with. In the end she stood leaning against his table, bathed in semi darkness, and for a moment he wanted to never see her again.

"That night, Tony, it did something to me that scared me."

"Go on."

"It made me...realize that I...care about you too much, and that I do not want to hurt you."

"Funny how that didn't work out. Come on, cut the crap, Ziva. You're only scared of yourself. Leave me out of it."

"Tony..." she started, but he stepped into her, his hand gently tracing her face, her hair.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you, and yes, admittedly, I've had a lot of time on my hands, but this," he whispered and traced her bottom lip with his thumb, "I'm not making it up. And you know it."

Her eyes couldn't settle and danced nervously between his lips and his eyes, and he could tell how this irritated her.

"What do you want, Tony? What do you need?"

"I want to have the longest, hottest shower of my life," he said, laughing for a split second, but then he took her face between his hands and made her look into his eyes.

"What I want, Ziva, is for the world to stop just for a minute so I can catch my breath. And I want everybody and everything to go away so that it is just us, and that I can look at you and only you without any distractions and lose myself in your eyes. I want to wrap myself around you, get in you and disappear completely."

"Oh my God," she whispered.


	2. Chapter 2

Rating: M for language and content

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended; these characters belong to NCIS, I own nothing.

Pairing: Ziva D./ Tony D.

Thank you everybody for reading the second chapter today, I hope you enjoy it x

WS

"Yeah, that's some crazy shit, isn't it?" He pushed himself away from her. "I think I've got cabin fever."

"Maybe you should have that shower," she suggested quietly. If she hadn't been able to look at him before, she certainly wasn't able to do it now.

"I think I will," he said, left her standing there, and disappeared into the bathroom.

Once under the hot spray, he started feeling more and more like himself again. He shampooed his hair three times just because he could, and when he was done, he was ready to sleep forever.

He found her right where he'd left her, leaning against the table, her gaze lowered, thinking, being beautiful and unavailable.

"I thought you'd have gone," he said and pulled the belt of his bathrobe tight.

"I wanted to forget you, Tony. But I have not."

"And you realized this when? When you were kissing someone else?"

"I thought it a long time ago, but in Cartagena, I wanted nothing more but to kiss you, and then I knew," she confessed, but didn't allow it to settle. "And you never called. Tony."

"Called to say what? That I'm in love with you? Seriously? You needed me to say it? How crazy are you?"

He walked across to her again and pinned her between himself and the table. "Fine. I'm madly in love with you, Ziva. I despise you. And I worship you. What ya gonna do with that?"

"Tony," she inhaled sharply. "I still want to kiss you."

"Want can't get Ziva, but you're lucky, because that's all I'm thinking about," he whispered into her lips, down the velvet of her neck, and it was her neck he kissed first, then her mouth.

"Ziva, I've dreamed about you..."

"Sshhh. Tony. It does not matter. Now is now."

"You're the worst poet," he chuckled into her mouth and kissed her so hard he thought his tongue was going to go into spasm.

He ran his hands down her back, and found a way under her shirt, his fingertips tingling from feeling her soft skin. He quickly took off two layers at the same time, then lifted her up and sat her down on the table.

He put his hand over her weapon. "I swear, Ziva, if you don't want this, you're gonna have to shoot me."

She took it out, laid it on the table and slid it out of reach.

"Thank God," he said and started unbuttoning her pants, took them off together with her panties, and she suddenly made a noise so unlike her that he couldn't help but laugh.

"What?" he asked.

"Cold," she giggled.

"So sorry, Miss David." He took off his dressing gown and put it down on the table, under her naked ass.

"Now. Where was I?" He kissed her again, and with one hand opened her bra, taking it off. "I think you need to let me look at you for a moment...you know, just in case my memory is all screwed, and you're really not all that hot," he said and ran his hand firmly down her front, from her collarbone to her belly button, watching every inch of skin unfold under his caress.

"Nope. You're beautiful. I hate your guts."

"I hate you, too, Tony," she said and wiggled against him like the ultimate trigger of a wet dream, her eyes conquering him, torturing him. He knew already that she had no second thoughts about what they were about to do at all, and he wondered if she was like that with the other guy...the man who wasn't him. He hated him. All he wanted to do was to claim every inch of her body as his, so that it may be touched, but never ever be owned by anybody but him...she belonged to him, because he had loved her first. Yes, he loved her.

He kissed her breasts, her nipples, and could only hope that it was giving her as much pleasure as it was giving him, but judging on the way her body responded, he was doing just fine. And best of all, he had her undivided attention, and he knew she wanted him. And what did anything else matter, anyway? Now was now, he remembered her words of wisdom and chuckled.

"Is it funny? Tony?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, low, and sexy as hell.

"Not funny, Ziva. Incredible."

He was no longer able to avoid his cock pressing against her, and so he pushed inside of her gently. He pulled her closer, placed both her legs over his shoulder and started setting a good, strong pace.

"I want you, Tony," she said and looked at him through big, deep eyes.

"You got me," he promised her, and promised himself to make her come no matter how much he wanted to forget himself and drive into her like a madman.

When he felt her getting close, he pulled her hips upwards just that little bit further, and he watched her crash and burn fantastically, and resurface even more beautiful than before. She was out of it, and when he knew he couldn't hold it any longer, either, he pulled out of her and came all over her stomach.

Out of breath, dead to the world, he couldn't even mumble an apology. If she was shocked, she didn't say it.

"I don't see you for four months and then I fuck you on a table. I'm so sorry," he told her when the fog had cleared slightly.

He pulled her still limb body up and held her. Their bodies were hot and sticky, and after a while, he felt her smile. "You are disgusting. Tony."

"I'm sorry, I should have given you a choice there...we should probably have a shower."

"In a minute."

"I'm in love with you."

"I know."

"Can you stay? Tonight?" he asked, but meant forever.

"Please," she said and kissed him deeply.

Damn you, Ziva David, he thought. Damn you.


	3. Chapter 3

Rating: M for language and content

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended; these characters belong to NCIS, I own nothing.

Pairing: Ziva D./ Tony D.

Right, so I am following the timeline as we know it. This chapter takes place just before "Nine Lives". Don't be sad, don't be shocked as we continue the journey and stuff happens, because my rule number one in all this is that true love always triumphs. Always.

Thank you everybody for reading, I hope you enjoy it x

WS

By the time he got home it was way after midnight.

He tore off his tie and threw it on the floor, turned on some lights. Long day. Long date. He hadn't even kissed her. He figured there really was no point since he wasn't going to sleep with her. Ah, sleep. He was ready to drop. He walked into his bedroom and kicked off his shoes. He could have sworn he'd made the bed that morning...but days seemed to all fade into one at the moment, so maybe he forgot.

"Tony." Her voice almost made him squeal like a girl. She was right there, in his bed. Sleepy eyes.

"Ziva...what the...you almost gave me a heart attack. What are you doing?"

"I wanted to talk to you."

"You better be wearing clothes, else this conversation is over," he smirked, but apparently she didn't think it was very funny.

"Yes," she said and sat up. "I sent you a message. You did not reply."

"I only just got it. Sorry. I was out."

"I know."

"I know you know, you were there when I was talking to McGee about it."

"Tony..."

"What are you doing, Ziva? Checking up on me?"

"I am going to Israel."

"Okay," he said, but it felt like someone had unexpectedly punched him in the gut.

"I wanted to tell you...but I did not want to tell you at work."

"Okay."

"I need to figure things out."

"Ziva, look; if this has anything to do with me then get to the point. If not, then please leave. I'm not the guy to give you relationship advise."

"You are jealous," she observed correctly, and he grabbed her with his eyes and mercilessly pinned her to the spot.

"And what are you? You come here the night you know I have a date and wait for me in my bed?"

"I am not jealous. Tony. I know we are both trying to...move on...follow the rules."

He laughed because everything was so ridiculous. "Rules are there to be broken, Ziva, and it's not that Gibbs hasn't gone there a few times. Rules are not orders. And you are jealous."

"I am not."

"You, Miss David, can't even bring yourself to say the name of my fish out loud," he paused, sat down on the bed and looked at her. It was a challenge. "What's her name, Ziva? Go on, prove me wrong. Say it."

"Kate."

"Almost killed ya, didn't it?" He chuckled and she looked at her hands.

"That is different."

"How?"

"You loved her," she said quietly.

"And you're going to Israel why exactly?"

"I need to figure things out."

"Yes, you said that. And good luck to you. Now go. But thanks for the heads up."

He saw the anger in her eyes probably before she herself felt it, but after a moment of stone-cold silence she kicked the sheets back, pushed him out of her way and darted towards the door.

Let her go, let her go, let her go, let her go, DiNozzo, he said to himself and watched her put on her shoes, her coat.

"Ziva." But he could not.

"I should not have come. Tony."

"Yes, but you did, so what are you gonna do about it?"

"I can think of a million reasons why I should not be here, and only one why I should. I just...can not remember to forget you."

He laughed, not because it was funny, but out of complete despair.

"You're telling me. I spent the whole evening with a woman who wasn't you, and guess what that made me want to do... You."

"Maybe we need to try harder."

"Is that why you're going to Israel or why you are here?"  
"Both," she admitted, and he understood. He hated it, but he got it. And she was beautiful. And at the end of the day, at the moment, she was still his. Wasn't she?

"Come here," he asked and held out his hand. She walked a few steps towards him and took it.

"We're going to regret this in the morning aren't we?"

"Either way. Yes."

"Ziva," he said her name and pulled her towards himself.

She kissed him, and yes, as absurd as it was, suddenly then, it was all that mattered. There was nothing but them.

"You know, I honestly can't be alone in the same room with you anymore," he confessed.

"I know what you mean," she whispered between kisses.

"Soon I'll say something stupid at work that I'll regret forever."

"You will not."

"What ya gonna do? Shoot me?"

"Yes."

"My God, I want you," he said and started pulling at her top.

"I think we should get naked," she suggested.

"Well, be quick, or I swear I'm gonna to rip your clothes off," he warned, and she stared shedding layers.

He did the same, and when they got into his bed, he wanted to bask in that initial moment of bliss for all eternity.

"Just for the record," he said and tried to get her attention. "I'm still in love with you."

"Tony..."

"Don't say anything you'll regret, David," he interrupted her. He had no idea what it was she was going to tell him, but he figured it was relatively insignificant, because in a way, all the damage was done.

He made love to her then like it was their first and their last time. It was clumsy and familiar, raw and meaningful. He knew her too well already, better than he'd ever cared to know any woman, and he cursed her and cursed her and cursed her. Everything about Ziva was entirely absurd, and he honestly wondered what he had done to deserve it...

She was all over their sex, she could play hard to get yet take charge at the same time, it drove him crazy. Her lips were his poison, but he couldn't get enough, and it was killing him. Now, like so many times before, she made him look at her as she came, and she whispered his name again and again.

"I love you," he told her only because he couldn't help it.

"Tony. I do not know what to do. I do not recognize myself," she mumbled against his naked chest when it was all over.

He rolled her off of him and spooned her.

"Nor do I. Here's what really gets me, Ziva. I never wanted to be this grown up."

"What do you mean?" she asked, and he traced her hips with his thumb.

"Vanilla sex with the same person over and over and over again...and I don't even like you very much...we might as well get married and get it over with," he sighed, and she detached himself completely; got out of bed.

"I have to go," she said.

"Ziva. Please. I'm joking."

"I am going to Israel," she whispered, at him, at herself, he couldn't be sure.

"Bon Voyage. Oh wait, what's that in Hebrew?" he asked, because he couldn't think of anything else to hurt her feelings.

"Google it. Tony," she told, him and three minutes later he heard the door close behind her.

He got up and did just that.


	4. Chapter 4

Rating: M for language and content

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended; these characters belong to NCIS, I own nothing.

Pairing: Ziva D./ Tony D.

Takes place after "Dagger".

Here's a little bit of light hearted fluff for you all.

Thank you everybody for reading, I hope you enjoy it x

WS

He hadn't tried speaking to her before he went home, and now he felt awful.

The thing about Ziva was that he knew, because he had learned, when it was best to just leave her.

This was a tricky one, though.

She wouldn't have wanted him to see her cry, but he could have said something later. Could have. Would have...Should have...

So now he was sitting on his couch wondering if he was being a good friend or an asshole.

He threw his phone into the air then caught it.

What to do?

He repeated the throw and catch manoeuvre a few times.

It wasn't just about her, though, he needed some distraction, too. Overthinking things wasn't healthy. Of course there'd always be the odd case that would get to them. Really get to them. Even really, really get to them.

"Want to go on a date?" he typed into his phone and immediately pressed "send" out of reflex more than anything else. Shit, he thought. Oh well, that message was out...

It took her not 30 seconds to reply.

"I do not double date"

"You've done worse. Don't deny, I was there."

He had no reply for ten minutes, and it bothered him. A lot.

"Please?"

"Pick me up?"

"Be ready in 45."

":)"

x x x

By the time he got to her apartment he had already congratulated himself on being an absolute genius at least a hundred times, because his idea rocked.

She answered the door and he couldn't help notice that she looked tired.

"Ready?" he asked and she almost smiled. It was a start.

"Where are you taking me? Tony?"

"Secret. It's more about the event than the destination, anyway."

"This can not be a date," she told him again.

"This has to be a date," he said. "Look, we've never had a first date, and after everything we've...you know...done, I think I owe you this. Actually, you owe me."

"This can not be a date," she crossed her arms. Like we can help it, he thought.

"Humour me, Ziva, come on. We both need to get out. Have some fun."

"It feels wrong to have fun."

"I know you think that. But trust me. Tonight, for the next few hours, just trust me."

She brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face and took a deep breath.

"Thank you. Tony."

"Come on."

They drove in silence for a while, and when he pulled into a dark side road that lead into an even darker parking lot, and stopped the car in front of a line of sinister looking trees, she finally spoke.

"I am not going back into the woods."

"Don't panic. We're not getting out."

"I was not panicking, but please explain."

"Sit. Wait," he instructed, got out of the car and popped the trunk.

He came back balancing a shoe box containing two large cups of drink, popcorn and an assortment of candy on his laptop.

"Hold," he asked, and Ziva took the shoe box.

He opened the laptop, switched it on, got back into the car and pushed his seat back.

She was watching him, a twinkle in her eye, and he was loving that.

"Drive in movie, Ziva. It's perfect. Oh, and there are more snacks in the glove compartment."

"Tony, this is..."

"Incredible? I know. Bet you've never been on a better first date."

"This is not a date, and I was going to say silly," she shook her head at him.

"Bet you've never been to a drive in movie."

"Correct. I suppose my life was not as fun as yours, Tony."

"Well, today you've got no excuse, so sit back and relax. Maybe laugh...you're much prettier when you laugh," he said and put that stray curl back behind her ear. Their eyes locked, and he briefly wondered what she was going to do with the moment. The answer was nothing. She looked at the screen and cleared her throat.

"What are we watching?"

"Jaws."

"Jaws?"

"Yes, I figured you don't do funny, so maybe scary will take your mind off things."

"I have not seen it," she stated.

"As unbelievable as that may seem, I thought as much," he rubbed his hands together and pressed play.

They watched the beginning in silence.

"Eat," he instructed and held popcorn in front of her face.

"I am not hungry."

"Come on, Ziva, have you even had dinner? You've gotta eat." She shook her head. "I know it's crap food, but it's good for the soul. Sugar?" he asked and presented her with a cup of malt balls.

She looked at him with that look that said something like "go away", but he wasn't listening. He picked up a malt ball and popped it into her mouth.

"Also, Ziv-ah, the constant consumption of food is vital during a first date. It fills awkward silences and distracts from the reason why both people are really there."

"The reason being?" she asked, and he quickly put another malt ball in her mouth.

"The lead up to the first kiss, of course, God, you know nothing about first dates."

"So you want to kiss me? Yes?"

"You? No, you're hideous. I brought food so I don't have to talk to you," he said and fed her another malt ball. She punched him in the side, playfully.

"That is not very nice."

"I'm only saying...why would I want to kiss you? It's only my favourite thing to do in the world right now."

"We have not been kissing," she reminded him.

"I've noticed," he said and challenged her eyes for a second time to test the waters. Again, she didn't go there.

"You know, Ziva, if you were candy, you'd be malt balls," he told her and popped another one into her mouth. "Way too sweet. It gives me a sugar rush, and really, not good for me at all, and in the long run probably deadly. But I can't stop wanting them."

He saw a smile in the corner of her mouth.

"So it is good that you do not have it every day? Yes?"

"Don't be cute, Miss David," he warned and fed her another malt ball.

They continued that little dance for a while, watching the movie. He tried to read her expression, trying to figure out whether or not she enjoyed it.

"So, Tony, you took your girlfriends to the drive in movie? Yes?"

He laughed out loud. "No, never, I wasn't nearly that cool, but don't tell McGee."

"What did you do?"

"I can't give away my secrets, Ziva," he said. He loved it when he could leave her wondering.

"Do you remember your very first kiss?" she asked unexpectedly, her eyes, too, transfixed on the screen now.

"Of course, God, Ziva, how could I forget. Lizzie McAlistair. She was nothing like you. It was love. But it didn't last. We were only six."

She poked him between the ribs.

"That is not what I meant. Real kiss."

"It was real."

"Not when you were six."

"Sorry, but I can't say. I don't kiss and tell," he whispered in the direction of her ear.

She turned to him briefly. "Well, that is good to know."

"Remember our first kiss?" he asked her and presented her with a drinks cup. She took the straw into her mouth and took a sip.

"No. I remember nothing of that night," she was looking at the screen again, and gently elbowed him.

"That's too bad. It was so hot, it was like...BANG...sexy exploded in my face."

She laughed, kept sipping her drink, but didn't look at him again.

"That shark does not look real," she changed the subject.

"It did when I was a kid. I was terrified."

"I am surprised you were allowed to watch it."

"Senior never believed in treating me as a child. That's why I grew up all man."

She raised her eyebrows at him and shook her head.

"My father always recognized my...softer side. And today I hate him for it."

"You shouldn't be so afraid of it," he said, "I've seen it. It's not that scary." He couldn't help but think of her perfect little body curled up in his arms just after sex.

He quickly put another malt ball into her pretty little mouth. It did not necessarily help getting rid of unwanted images...

"And what about you? Tony?" she pulled him back to reality. "What about your softer side?"

"As I was saying, I don't have one. I'm all man," he winked at her, and she poked his side so hard he screamed a high pitched scream.

"So manly," she observed, a big grin on her face.

"Anyway, stop talking, David, I'm missing the movie," he said and threw popcorn at her.

"Tony, you are a dead man," she shifted in her seat, and he wondered what she was planning on doing to him.

He quickly picked up a malt ball and shoved it in her face. She opened her mouth and sucked it in. He traced her bottom lip first with his eyes, then with his thumb.

"Sorry," he whispered.

"Tony. You can not touch me like that," she whispered back.

"I couldn't help it."

"Every time you touch me like that, I..."

"You what?"

"Look," she pushed her sleeve up to her elbow and revealed goosebumps.

He ran his fingertips over her exposed skin and she shivered.

"Stop."

"You don't mean that," he said quietly and took her arm, looked into her eyes, and kissed the inside of her wrist.

"Is this the typical first kiss?" she asked him, and he was unsure whether she wanted to pull her hand away or allow him to keep hold of it. Maybe she didn't even know herself.

"No," he looked into her eyes, let go of the hand and leaned over to kiss her so gently, he felt like he barely touched her at all. "This is," he said, and she looked at his mouth and kissed him back, and it was so different to anything they'd done before. He felt like he was going to go out of his mind. There was nothing demanding about it, nothing threatening, nothing hard or dangerous. It was just so very, very hot.

"I had no idea you could kiss like that," he breathed into her lips.

"I...what?"

"Exactly," he chuckled and again pressed his lips to hers.

"We...should... not..." she whispered and he gently put his finger over her lips.

"Ziva. Shut up. To hell with it all."


	5. Chapter 5

Rating: M for language and content

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended; these characters belong to NCIS, I own nothing.

Pairing: Ziva D./ Tony D.

We continue, and this takes place after "Silent Night".

Thank you everybody for reading, I hope you enjoy it x

WS

"Are we still on for...you know?" He pulled her aside by her arm, looking around to make sure nobody was watching them.

"Of course," she replied in her work voice, but joined him in quickly scanning the vicinity.

"Good. Just checking."

"My bag is in the car. I can go straight after the movie."

"You won't be needing a bag," he assured her.

"What if we get...snowed in? Tony?"

"At my apartment?"

She shrugged.

"Yeah, I hate it when that happens."

"It might happen."

"We can always hope," he quickly winked at her.

"Haha. Tony," she rolled her eyes and tried to push past him, but he still had a good grip on her.

"You getting me anything special by the way?" he asked.

"I think, Tony, you have a very good idea of what you might be getting. Yes?" She twisted out of his grip and left him standing there facing the wall.

God, he loved Christmas!

After their "first date" and hours of kissing in the car their already out of control...affair, or whatever the hell it was, had started all over again. Like someone had pressed the reset button on them. He was sure it was her, too, and the truly insane thing was that nothing else had happened. Just the crazy kissing.

He'd dropped her off, they kissed some more, and that had been it.

A couple of days later she bought him a family pack of malt balls and just put them down in front of him like it was nothing. He'd wanted to slam his head into the desk to knock at least the idea of sense back into him, but instead, he ate all the malt balls except for one which he threw at her head when Gibbs was out of the room.

Then the late night messages started.

"You awake?"

"Yes."

"What ya doing?"

"Thinking"

"About?"

"You"

And just like that they were in it again, and barely keeping their heads above water.

"What ya doing Christmas" he'd texted her the night she turned him down when he'd asked her to see a movie.

"Reminder. I do not do Christmas."

"Want to not do Christmas together? Stay at mine. 48 hours just us."

"Please"

And here they were. Christmas. And nobody could know, because their priorities towards each other were about to change so drastically. For 48 hours. Being partners had to come first, always...except at Christmas...he knew what they'd be as soon as the door shut and their phones were switched off. And he couldn't wait.

When he sat back down behind his desk he glanced across to her only to find she was already looking at him. Caught off guard, she blushed.

He started typing. "PS: I'm getting you the same thing, David. Two if you've been a good girl."

He watched her read it.

The look on her face.

Bliss.

She could barely look at him for the rest of the day.

x x x

She met him in front of his apartment and smiled a smile that took ten years off her. He was hooked.

He took her bag, and opened the door for her.

Once inside, he looked her up and down, wondering if she was going to say anything. Draw the line, come up with some rules, but nothing.

She simply took a few steps towards him and put her arms around his neck.

"Merry Christmas. Tony," she whispered.

"Merry Christmas, Ziva," he told her and pulled her into a deep kiss that literally made him see stars. "My God, what's on your lips?" he asked and kissed her again.

"Nothing. Chapstick."

"Chapstick," he repeated. "Such an un-you word, such an un-you product. I think I need to confiscate it or I won't stop kissing you for the next 48 hours."

"Tony," she looked at him through big brown eyes. "I only put it on because I do not want to stop kissing you for the next 48 hours."

"Oh, I see. And why is that?"

"Because, it seems that I can not live without you at the moment."

He felt it was too soon to allow a triumphant smile, and so he pulled her closer and put his mouth close to her ear. "I'm gonna remind you you said that, you know. The next time you tell me I'm childish or annoying, or..."

"Tony. You talk too much."

"Or when I talk too much," he grinned and kissed her again, his hands in her hair.

"Tony."

"What?"

"Not in front of...Kate," she said, and had he not been turned on so much he probably would have lost it laughing. He picked her up and carried her to the bedroom.

This was not about kissing anyway, he knew it, he knew that she knew it, and he was going to drag this out to the edge of eternity.

They spent the next twenty minutes getting naked. The slow pace amused him, because it wasn't like they didn't know what they were getting.

He already knew every inch of her, he had memorized her body completely, had spent more nights fantasizing about it than he'd ever be willing to admit. And now that she was exactly where he wanted her, his hands were shaking, and he couldn't for the life of him find words, nor could he look into her eyes.

He traced her hip bones with his fingers, then planted small kisses on her stomach. He quickly learned that rediscovering something could be even more exciting than experiencing it for the first time. He worshipped her, and the unnerving thing was that she let him. She watched him closely, and he couldn't read her thoughts.

"Are you cold?" he asked.

"No."

"You're shivering."

"I am...nervous. Tony," she admitted.

"Ziv-ah," he whispered and scooped her into a tight embrace. She swung a leg over him. "How good are we at sex?"

"We are fantastic," she tried to not laugh, but couldn't help it. "But that is just it. Tony. What if you are the guy I will never be able to get over?"

"I could answer that, but you'd probably shoot me," he smiled and looked into her eyes until he knew he was drowning.

"Ziva," he said her name again because it was the only thing on his mind.

"I'll do anything you want," she told him so quietly he barely heard her at all. I doubt that very much, he thought, but made her lay down on her back and gently parted her legs. He held one hand, whilst his other was travelling down her body at a painfully slow speed, followed by his lips, his mouth. He went down on her and made her come only when she was begging him. When she was nearly conscious again he fucked her so hard he thought he'd died.

Everything about her was wow.

Everything about her was unreal.

Everything about her was addictive.

Everything about her was so completely necessary.

Everything about her was everything.

It was information overload, and they were going to have to sleep this one off, and in his tiny little bed he spooned her like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Night, baby," he whispered and kissed her hair when he was sure she was asleep.

"Night baby," she replied and took his hand.

Pandora's box had been opened yet again.

They were in so much trouble...


	6. Chapter 6

Rating: M for language and content

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended; these characters belong to NCIS, I own nothing.

Pairing: Ziva D./ Tony D.

Christmas continues. This one is as silly as it it serious, and I hope you like it.

Thank you everybody for reading and your continuous interest x

WS

He woke up feeling hung-over. Adrenaline come-down headache, now doubt. The morning after the night before.

In his small bed he didn't have to reach for her to know she wasn't there.

"Ziva?" he mumbled sounding groggy.

Nothing.

He got out of bed, put on a bathrobe and walked into the living room.

She stood in front of the fish bowl, drizzling fish food with one hand, holding a glass of water in the other, wearing nothing but one of his favourite t-shirts.

He rubbed his eyes.

"Please can you pinch me or throw that water at me, because I think I'm seeing things."

"We have made friends," she smiled at Kate, not looking at him.

"Oh yeah? What were you talking about?"

"You."

"She tell you any secrets?"

"Nothing. You can trust her."

"I know. I did," he said and stepped closer.

"I wonder what she would say to this. Us," Ziva asked and took a sip of water, still only looking at the fish.

Tony stepped behind her and brushed her hair out of the way so that he could kiss her neck. "Probably: DiNozzo, don't get involved. Kate was incredibly smart, you see."

"Did she love you back?"

"Ziva. Stop it," he whispered and kissed her neck again.

"I was only wondering what she would say."

What would your boyfriend say if he saw us right now, Tony wondered, but it wasn't worth another thought. She was here and she was his.

"Did you sleep alright?" he asked.

"Too well."

"Why did you get up?" he asked and pulled her closer, running his hands down her front.

"You were snoring," she laughed and wiggled her little ass against him. If she hadn't guessed he had a hard on already, she knew now.

"Shut up about the snoring, David. Every time..." he pushed his cock against her back.

"I am joking," she chuckled.

He put his lips on her neck again and sucked the soft flesh, then stuck his tongue in her ear. One hand cupped her breast, her nipple was hard already, and he gently squeezed it.

"Good God, woman, what are you doing to me?" he mumbled and all he could think about was fucking her again. He pulled open his bath robe and squashed her against him.

"No. Tony. Stop," she said, and slapped his hand that was travelling south.

"What?"

"I need to give you your Christmas present," she said in a playful voice that quite frankly was Christmas present enough for him.

"I thought you don't do Christmas," he said and tried to get his hand moving again, but she held it tight.

"I do not do Christmas, Tony. But that does not mean you should not have your holiday."

"You're so...considerate. Our kids are gonna love you," he said, and he felt the look she would have given him had they been facing each other. Most likely involuntarily, her grip loosened, and he pushed up her t-shirt. His t-shirt. His t-shirt that she was wearing. "And you couldn't even put on panties, could you?"

"This is like a dress on my. And, it is all in...what do you say?...the spirit of the season," she said and it sounded too sexy.

"Please let me fuck you," he asked and kissed her neck again.

"Present first," she demanded, turned around and wrapped her arms around his neck.

It was only a matter of picking her up and slamming her against the wall, and by God was he tempted.

"Then you need to let go of me and walk way over there," he said, and she did.

"What's for breakfast?" she asked, unfortunately still looking like sex impersonated leaning against the piano.

"Let me stick my head in the fridge," he winced and went into the kitchen. "That might help with my hard-on, too," he mumbled, and she smirked.

"What ya want? Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwiches or Lucky Charms?"

"No wonder you talk so much. Tony. Too much sugar."

"Maybe you need more sugar, Ziv-ah. You might feel...I don't know...funnier? Ever considered that?"

"I'll have both then," she said and appeared in the doorway with a tube wrapped in Christmas paper. "This is for you."

"What ya get me?" he asked, intrigued now.

"Do we eat first?" she asked.

"At our house there was always breakfast first and then presents," he explained the DiNozzo tradition.

"Okay," she said, and took all breakfast things to the other room, placed them on the table, and sat down.

"Let me get your present," he winked at her.

"Tony, I do not do Christmas," she said loudly so he could hear it in the bedroom.

"Don't care, you'll love this," he clapped his hands in anticipation and put two items on the table in front of her.

"Maybe we should do presents while we are eating," she suggested, and he knew she was dying to find out what he got her.

"Okay."

"But you go first."

"Okay."

Slowly, he unwrapped his present, watching her closely. She had a twinkle in her eyes. It was the cutest thing in the world.

"What's in it?" he asked looking at a cardboard tube. "Secret map to your heart?" he joked and she looked at her hands.

"You do not need a map," she said quietly, and he felt like an asshole. He also felt like kissing her.

He popped open the white plastic bit on the end and pulled out a poster.

"A signed Jaws poster? Steven Spielberg? Are you out of your mind? This is...I can't...where the hell did you even get this from?" he said. He wanted to cry. This was absurd!

"Ziva, you're crazy, this is a complete collector's item!"

"I know," she nodded, her face had turned bright red, her eyes two big sparkly Christmas baubles.

"Ziva!"

"What? I wanted to get you something...special."

"Well, there's special and there's crazy. Where the hell did you get this from? Tell me, you didn't kill someone? No, actually don't answer that."

She punched his arm.

"No! I asked McGee to help me out."

"McGee knows people who know people who can get this?"

She nodded.

"He knows you got this for me?"

She nodded.

"And he wasn't jealous?"

"He did not give me that impression," she told him.

"I honestly don't know what to say. This is incredible. Thank you."

She smiled from ear to ear.

"Now me?" she asked.

"Go ahead. But I'm afraid it won't be half as good as this... Jaws. Man, I love this. I'm gonna frame it."

"Which one do I open first?"

He pushed the slightly bigger one towards her and she opened it quickly.

"Alice Cooper. Poison?"

"Yes, ma'am. The first song on that album was written about you, so I thought you should hear it."

"I am not poison," she said and looked at him through such innocent eyes...the song had her written all over it.

"You'll see," he laughed. "Listen to it at home. It's you in a nutshell."

"And what is in here?" she asked and picked up the small envelope.

"Okay, so Alice Cooper is the present that is exactly like you. And that one holds something that is completely unlike you," he explained. Truth was, he had spent ages coming up with the idea.

She opened the envelope, pulled out its contents.

"Assorted Disney Princesses Temporary Tattoos," she read, and he wanted to lose it laughing. Her cute little accent and the tone of her voice alone made this experience entirely worth it. Questionmarks filled her eyes, and he pulled up his eyebrows.

"Tell me this is not the most un-you present in the whole world."

"I...this is so silly," she laughed, and looked at the tattoos. "Snow White. Cinderella. Who is she?" she asked and pointed at one of the princesses. "Mulan. She knows how to fight, she's you. So you can't have her. I say Cinderella."

"Fine," she laughed. "How does this work?" She read the instructions, and made the universal sign for scissors at him. He couldn't believe she was game, and quickly got up to get them, then cut out the picture of Cinderella.

"Where d'ya want it?"

"I will leave that up to you. Tony," she said, and he was all over that assignment already. He pictured her naked body, an empty canvass for his desires, his pleasure, his bliss; and the Cinderella tattoo.

He held her wrist before she could shovel another spoon full of Lucky Charms in her mouth.

"Bedroom. Now. I am begging you!"

Their eyes locked, and he knew she had nothing else to say to him. She took his hand and lead him to the bedroom.

"Bend over," he told her, and she leant over, her hands on the mattress.

"Cinderella will go right here," he said and smacked her naked ass.

She winced, then giggled. "You need water. Tony," she said, but he had a better idea. He licked the small spot he'd spanked, then put the tattoo down, spat on it, and pushed it down.

"Tony! You are disgusting."

"You love it," he chuckled. "Hold still."

"Trying."

Thirty seconds later he peeled off the paper.

Cinderella was beautiful.

He wanted to laugh until he cried; the whole situation was so completely ridiculous.

"Very good," he told her, and she turned around to have a look.

"Hmmm."

"You probably shouldn't sit down for a few minutes," he suggested.

"Well, in that case. Tony," she said and took off her shirt. His shirt...his shirt that she was wearing..."I should get on my hands and knees? Yes?" she suggested and yes, yes! He wanted nothing more in the world but to screw her brains out.

"This is not going to last long," he warned her and true to his word, it did not.

Afterwards he gently stroked her back, she looked satisfied, about to doze off, and he wanted that moment to last forever.

"I think you should get a real tattoo," he mumbled.

"Cinderella?" she smiled, eyes closed.

"No. Property of Anthony DiNozzo Junior," he suggested. He could already see it.

She chuckled. "You are silly."

"I love you, Ziva."


	7. Chapter 7

Rating: M for language and content

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended; these characters belong to NCIS, I own nothing.

Pairing: Ziva D./ Tony D.

Christmas continues. One more for luck.

Thank you everybody for reading and your continuous interest x

WS

At 4 pm they were still in bed...or again, depending how you looked at it.

She'd pulled the covers over their heads and they were kissing. Still...or again, depending how you looked at it.

"It's like we're sixteen and this is completely forbidden," Tony whispered.

"It is forbidden."

"Nobody is gonna come in and tell us off; and send you home..."

Ziva laughed lightly. "Is that what happened to you? Poor Tony." She lifted the covers and had a quick look around. "The sea is clear."

"The coast, Ziva. The coast is clear."

"I wish there was a week of Christmas. Imagine," she sighed.

"Only a week? I'd love to have you in my bed every night. Might even buy a bigger one."

"Tony. We would kill each other."

"We haven't today."

"That is because," she said and ran her finger down his chest, "we have been asleep a lot."

"And that is because we," he said and ran his fingers down her arm, "have had sex a lot."

"Ha ha, yes, Tony. And you think you are going to want this much sex when it is readily available to you?"

"Harsh, Ziva," he told her through half closed eyes. "You think I only want this because I can't have you?"

"It has crossed my mind, yes," she admitted and not for the first time did he wish she had just lied to him instead.

"And you are here why exactly?" he asked, and he noticed how pleased he was when he saw that he'd touched a nerve.

"Because...you invited me. And because I wanted to spend time with you."

"To figure out who it's gonna be? Him or me?" he asked and it sounded completely absurd. DiNozzo, you're pathetic.

"This has nothing to do with it," she replied, and he wondered where in her head that made any sense at all.

He rolled onto his back and kicked the sheets off of them.

"Poison, Ziva. You're gonna be the death of me." His eyes focused on the ceiling, but all he could concentrate on was her hot little naked body still curled around him. POISON. Why did she have to be so consequential? Why couldn't he just fuck her out of his system and move on?

"FYI, Ziva, I've wanted you for a long time."

"You started wanting me when you were on assignment at sea for four months," she said looking at him now.

"I wanted you before that, Ziva, you knew that."

She looked at him, her face serious now, and she didn't reply...she didn't reply, and he thought he knew why.

He looked her straight in the eyes and spoke clearly and quietly: "If you are telling me that the night after California was a pitty fuck, I swear, Ziva, I'm going to rip your heart out."

She shook her head violently. "That is not what I am saying. I am saying that we should not rush into a situation that is too big for us right now."

"And I am saying that I'm afraid that next week, next month or next year it's too late. You know how quickly things can change."

"Exactly," she was talking with one hand now, moving it around furiously. "That is what I am saying, too."

"No, what you are saying is that you don't trust me."

"I trust you with my life. Tony."

"But not with your heart," he concluded and pulled her closer.

She didn't answer.

Point made.

He hated her.

They stayed like that for a moment, he was trying to read her thoughts, but to no avail. He expected her to get up and leave, and when she hadn't after another ten minutes, he wondered if it was at all possible that she was as romantically challenged, as clueless, and as pathetic as he was.

"Tony. Every time there is an attractive woman your eyes are all over her. Do not tell me you are ready to commit."

"You're as bad as me, David, you big tease," he laughed and pinched her ass.

"Auw!"

"You're welcome. I'm a guy, Ziva, guys do that, but I'm mostly just playing."

"You are not playing, you are a player," she told him.

"So, let's play," he suggested and pinched her ass again, then kissed her mouth.

"Auw. Tony. The point I was making..."

"Sweetcheeks, I've suddenly lost interest in the point you were making," he said, his hands all over her.

"Tony," she struggled for a moment, but then couldn't help but laugh.

"I'm sorry, but there's only so long I can be naked with you without wanting to pound you."

"Tony!"

"Sorry, I can't help it. I'm a guy," he chuckled and kissed her again, his hand committing to one of her breasts, and he squeezed it. Another few kisses later and she was his. Still...or again, he couldn't decide.

"I want to look into your eyes when I make you come," he whispered and she shook her head in pretend-outrage.

"When?"

"Ziva, I know how much you hate this, but I've got you all figured out," he told her and gently placed his hand between her legs. She inhaled sharply.

"Maybe. Tony. We need to do this less," she suggested as he started caressing her. She could already barely keep her eyes open.

"Tried," he said and kissed her again. "But I can't remember to forget you."

After that she didn't even try to resist, and it felt amazing. Her entire body went hot, she took a lung-full of air, and mumbled some nonsense.

God, he loved watching her like this, it was his dirtiest fantasy. Often at work, all he could think about was putting his hand down her pants and making her come.

She was fidgeting now, trying to hold on to something, anything. She grabbed a pillow, didn't like it, threw it across the room. He felt her body gagging for his touch.

"Tony," she said, throwing her head from side to side, her cheeks, her neck, flushed, so, so sexy.

"Look at me, baby," he demanded, and she opened her eyes. It took her a moment to focus on him, and she looked like she wanted to say something.

"Just tell me one thing," he asked, her big eyes so deep he wanted to lose himself forever. "Tell me you are not in love."

She smiled briefly, maybe because he was being so unfair asking her at that moment of all moments, but she managed to hold his gaze.

"I can not."


	8. Chapter 8

Rating: M for language and content

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended; these characters belong to NCIS, I own nothing.

Pairing: Ziva D./ Tony D.

Continuing our very own behind the scenes journey through Season 6, this one is set between "Love & War" and "Deliverance". Anyone else notice how hyper they were? Calm before the storm, right?

Thank you everybody for reading and for your continuous interest. I hope you are still enjoying this story. x

WS

Man, he'd just paid McGee 60 bucks...20 for a guilty conscience... Level five sorceress, what was he even thinking? Stupid idea. Stupid.

He reversed out of his parking space and almost jumped out of his skin when someone literally appeared from out of nowhere. He slammed on the breaks.

"Are you crazy?" he yelled, and was just about to get out of the car when the door opened.

"What?" she asked.

"Ziva," he exasperated. "I was asking if you were crazy, but I already know you are. What are you doing?"

She shrugged. "Tony..."

"I almost ran you over!"

"I knew I could rely on your excellent driving skills," she winked.

"Okay, stop being nice to me. What's up?" he asked and switched off the engine.

"You need company," she told him out straight.

"Oh?"

"Tony. Level five sorceress? You really looked into that which means that you need to spend less time alone."

"I spend time with people all day."

"At work. I mean non-work time."

"Okay, I admit it got out of hand, but torturing McGee is my guilty pleasure," he explained.

"I thought I was your guilty pleasure," she smiled but looked at him that moment too long.

"Guilty as charged," he replied and for the first time that day no longer felt like joking.

"I am sorry," she told him quickly.

"Why don't you tell me what you really want?"

"What do you mean?"

"Miss David, you have that reluctant twinkle in your eye that I have seen somewhere before. Once or twice. Or a thousand times."

"My eyes do not twinkle..."

"You've got no idea," he laughed and brushed her cheek briefly. "Spill it."

"Tony."

"If it makes you feel any better, it's a guilty twinkle."

"It is?"

"Yes, and just for the record, I hate that."

"Tony... and...I hate you."

"Ah, that old devil called hate," he mused, and locked her in an intense stare. "Tell me."

"Come home with me?" she asked, and he let her hanging for oh so long.

"But we've been so good, Ziva."

"That is not what I was thinking...originally," she said and looked around. "I only wondered if maybe you wanted company. You know, nothing else."

"And what are you thinking now?"

"I...well, only because I know you are thinking it," she said quietly.

"Maybe we should go to yours and talk about our options," he suggested.

"Talk...or maybe we should go to mine and not talk at all."

"Afraid of what I might say to you?" he asked.

"No. Afraid of what I might say."

x x x

He followed her home, wondering the whole way what the point had been in distancing himself from her after Christmas. He'd tried, but who was he even kidding? He saw her in everything. Her eyes, her lips, he dreamed about her soft skin, her hair brushing over his body, the way she let him hold her when she wasn't for a second the bad-ass ninja girl he was so hard trying not to fall in love with as well.

Outside her apartment she pulled keys from her pocket along with a $20 bill. She held up the money.

"Whoever talks first pays $20."

"David, if those are McGee's additional 20, you're a dead woman," he told her.

"Shhh. Tony," she giggled, put her finger on his lips and opened the door for him.

When she took him straight to the bedroom he didn't complain. After all, she was his guilty pleasure. Except he didn't feel guilty, despite the fact that there was another guy...and he knew there was, still. She put the 20 bucks on the bedside table and switched on the light. He shook his head and switched it back off. She allowed it. She took off his shirt and tie and pants, like she was in a hurry to get somewhere, but he slowed her down.

He put her on the bed and took his sweet time undressing her, kissing her, touching her. She tried to help, but he shook his head at her. No. I know what's underneath, and I am unwrapping you one layer at a time; because you let me.

How could she live with herself, he wondered. Unless she loved neither the other guy nor him, which was totally fucked up, yet entirely possible.

He ran his hands down her body, and felt her react instantly. I'll promise you anything, he thought and looked into her eyes through the gentle darkness. Please just tell me what you want from me, he wanted to ask her, but he knew the question would go unanswered regardless of whether they were playing their little silence game or not.

He took one nipple in his mouth and sucked on it, running his hand up and down her inner thigh. She wiggled around impatiently, reached for him, but he pulled away quickly; and he wanted nothing more but to tie her up and torture her slowly... Where were his handcuffs when he really needed them? Now there was a thought he'd be hanging on to for a while...Man, what was she doing to him? He'd been relatively normal until he met her...and now he talked too much, drank too much, slept too little, had sexual fantasies about her exclusively, sucked at dates,...damn her and her pretty eyes and her to die for body, and her cute accent. He kissed her hard before he burst out with something completely inappropriate and had to pay her 20 for the pleasure.

Lost in his own thoughts for a moment he failed to pay attention, and before he knew it, she'd pushed him over and sat across him. The pale light from the other room couldn't hide her triumphant smile. Advantage David, he thought.

She bit her lip, lifted her ass up, took his cock in her hand and pushed herself down on him, looking at him the whole time. Calm yourself, DiNozzo, you've done this a thousand times. He took a deep breath. He had enough adrenaline in him to pin her back down, but God, she looked so good when she was fucking him like that. Her eyes were shut, and she was moving at a slow, leisurely pace. He wanted to pass out. Just when he thought she was just using him, something that turned him on beyond belief, she leant down to kiss him on the mouth. He held on to her by the neck and got another few juicy kisses out of her, before she got back to business. She was moaning, fucking him harder and harder, her mouth slightly open, her hair everywhere, and he tried to think of everything else... When she finally came, it took him almost by surprise. She let herself fall onto his chest and breathed heavily into his neck, kissing it lightly.

He rolled himself on top of her hot little body and it took him less than thirty seconds before he exploded inside her. He had to bite his tongue to not say her name...God, he even said her name when he was jerking off these days, it was like some insane reaction to bliss. He held her and felt himself drifting off when she shifted and reached across him to turn the light on. She took the 20 dollar bill and put in on his chest.

"You win. I need to tell you that...I...it is so hard for me not to love you."

"Then love me, you stupid bitch," he mumbled and pulled her back into him and kissed her forehead. He was asleep seconds later.


	9. Chapter 9

Rating: M for language and content

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended; these characters belong to NCIS, I own nothing.

Pairing: Ziva D./ Tony D.

This one is set right after "Knockout".

I would like to stress that it is not my fault that Rivkin showed up at the end of Season 6 and confused everything. I may not like it, but it happened, and I will not ignore it.

"All is fair in love and war" -Francis Edward Smedley.

WS

He rode the elevator down and up again.

Somewhere between floors he developed a pounding headache. Ouch. Aspirin, he needed Aspirin.

A shoulder to cry on...ridiculous. She didn't even know him!

The doors opened and she was still standing there.

"Ziva."

"Tony."

"What are you doing still standing there?"

"What are you doing going up and down and up?"

"Wha...come in," he said and pulled her inside, pushed the button, then flicked the switch to stop the elevator.

"Tony. No."

"What?"

"Not at work."

He felt like laughing out loud, a hysterical reaction most likely.

"Come on, Ziva. You're my best kept secret. Trust me, I'm not gonna risk that one getting out."

"You are right. Tony. I am sorry. What is bothering you?" she asked, her voice all business, her eyes too dark.

"Ehrm, well, Tara, you know Tara, Ziva? Tara?"

"Tony. She left three seconds ago. I can recall."

"You know, we.. Tara and I..."

"Tony!"

"Sorry. Tara and I...we have been talking and...you see, this might sound crazy to you, but suddenly..."

"Suddenly? Tony? Spit it out."

"Well, it was like the lights went on in the room."

"Oh?" she said and looked at him the wrong way entirely.

"No, not like that. She...suggested that I... that I pick the wrong women," he said.

Ziva looked at her hands. "Oh? Anything else she had to say?"

"Ehm, no, I believe that was the bottom line," he said and loosened his tie, cleared his throat. "Ziva," he said, and grabbed her by the shoulders, looked into her eyes. "I can't sleep, I can't think, I can't stop talking, and I can't stop wanting you to feel something you're not feeling, and...I'm trying so hard..."

"Tony," she interrupted him, took a step back, collected her thoughts. "You do not know what I am feeling."

"And that's the problem, you see. Because how could I? You do this weird and wonderful thing where you somehow manage to...wrap yourself around me completely, and yet keep me at an arm's length. I know you inside out, and at the same time I don't know you at all."

She crossed her arms and looked at the floor.

"I was not brought up talking about feelings, Tony."

"Neither was I, Ziva. And now I understand that that's exactly what's making me go insane."

"Tony. That is what Tara told you?" she mocked.

"No, well, in a way, yes. You see, and what if she's right?"

"Tony. I do not do words. And I can not promise you what you want me to promise you. I can not tell you what you need to hear," she said, her voice getting stronger and stronger. He wondered if her frustration lay with him or with herself.

"Ziva," he said gently, and rubbed her arms again. "I know. I know. I think I must have had some minor melt-down or something, but..."

"What do you need from me? Tony?" she asked, and in a way he was glad she'd stopped his ridiculous babbling.

He looked into her eyes and held her firmly in place. "I need you to be completely unavailable to me until..."

"Until I have decided," she finished the sentence for him.

"Yes," he nodded.

"I understand. Tony," she said and looked ahead, straight through him, at nothing at all. "I will try. For you."

"Thank you," he said and brushed her cheek.

She went to flick the switch, but he pulled her back by her hand.

"Zi, what I said the last time we...you know...I...you're not the bitch. Love's the bitch."

She chuckled. "I know, Tony. I know. You did not need to clarify."

"All is fair in love and war, right?" he quoted, forcing a smile. A sad looked rushed across her face, and her eyes darkened even more.

"Nothing is fair in love or war. Tony. That is why I hate them both equally."

"Says the woman who doesn't do words," he whispered. "And just for the record. When I told you that I loved you...I meant it. Every time."

"Tony," she said his name and got up on her tiptoes and kissed him so hard he saw his life flashing before his eyes.

"Yeah, I love you," he said again, and kissed her some more. She was sweet and hot, and he could taste his every desire in her, because once upon a time, he'd put it there.

"I love you, Ziva David." His hands ran up and down her sides, her back, taking her in in order to remember...remember...yet how could he forget?

When they finished kissing, he rested his forehead against hers.

"If you ever need to hear the words, you come to me, okay?"

She nodded, her eyes still closed. "I will. Tony."

Without looking at him, she quickly planted another kiss on his lips, then finally stepped away from him, ready to get the elevator moving again.

"Tony. We will be alright," she said, but he wondered if it was a question.

"If it's not love forever, it wasn't love in the first place," he said, and pulled her back into his arms forcefully. "I sound like a fucking Hallmark greeting card, God, kill me now." He squeezed her so tight. "Come here, baby," he said and kissed her hair.

He already missed her more than he could ever bare to admit.

x x x

That night he went home, cried like a baby for the first time ever, drank too much and went to sleep on the couch because he couldn't face the bed.

Everything was back in order.

Everything was back in place.

1.) partners, 2.) friends, and 3.)... and 3.)?

Thoughts of her clouded his brain through the night into early twilight.

Ziva, Ziva, Ziva.

She was his salvation and his undoing. And he loved her. He loved her.


	10. Chapter 10

Rating: T

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended; these characters belong to NCIS, I own nothing.

Pairing: Ziva D./ Tony D.

Set right after "Truth or Consequences" this chapter concludes my interpretation of occurrences in Season Six (okay, and the beginning of Season Seven).

This chapter is very bitter sweet, and if you don't need to re-visit those heartbreaking moments we all had to witness, then don't read.

Thank you all very much for reading this story, it has been a lot of fun.

"And nothing else matters" - Metallica

WS

Her initial lie fired into the windscreen that was their relationship like a tiny, disruptive and consequential stone.

Crack.

And the damage was done. And he knew it was broken, but he was willing to ignore this knowledge.

In the end, what had to happen happened, cracks rippled through the glass until the whole thing fell apart into tiny little bits of nothing that once made up a whole.

He wondered how often he had been able to look down at all the broken pieces of his life and had been able to identify precisely where it had all gone wrong.

Maybe never.

And it all started with a question that maybe should never have been a question, because had it been a statement- information presented to her as a known fact- then maybe, maybe, maybe she would not have lied. Of course she wasn't the only one to blame, she wasn't the only one who'd lied, he'd lied, too, but what else was a better come back to being lied to? "Are you jealous," she'd asked. He told her no...and why would he have been jealous? It was only that the love of his life was walking away with another guy, and not just another guy, but the wrong guy; but then wasn't any guy wrong when it was he who wanted her so badly?

Everything turned into a nightmare so quickly, and he hadn't found his feet again since.

He was devastated when she decided to stay behind in Israel, and although her blind anger towards him had felt foreign and deadly, he knew he'd be able to live with it, because he hated himself, too.

But by staying in Israel, she took herself out of their equation entirely, and the silence that followed filled such a massive void and became a creepy ghost that haunted him.

It was one thing missing someone you loved so desperately knowing they had turned their back on you, but nothing at all compared to that blunt pain in your head, in your heart in your gut when you learn that that someone is gone. Dead. And that, in a way, it's all kind of your fault.

Like most regrets, he didn't regret the things he'd said, not even the things he'd done, but everything he had not said, he had not done.

That night he drank himself stupid and spent all morning throwing up.

He was a lose cannon during the time that followed, dancing between capitulation and going completely nuts.

And then there she was.

Alive.

Bruised, beaten, but alive, and asking him why. Why. Why?

Why do you think, Ziva? Why in all hell do you think?

After they were rescued they didn't speak another word to each other. To be fair, there wasn't much talking all-round.

He was too tired to sleep, too hurting to feel. He just sat on the plane watching her.

Watching her sit motionless, looking straight ahead. Watching her being checked briefly by a doctor. Watching her absent-mindedly allow tears to run down her face. Watching her ignore his existence.

And as he watched her, it became clear to him that she was really alive.

And nothing else mattered.

x x x

"Ziva, let me take you to the hotel," Abby's soft voice fluttered through the stillness of the office. "Or you can stay with me as long as you want instead. You don't have to be on your own."

Tony watched from behind his desk, and suddenly she lifted her gaze and her eyes found him. He had a sudden notion to look away, but didn't, and had he not been so tired, he probably would have jumped out of his chair.

Ever observant Gibbs must have noted the importance of their exchange. He slipped an arm around Abby's waist. "Abs," he whispered and kissed the top of her head. "Let DiNozzo take her?"

He made it sound like a question, but Tony knew it wasn't one. An order? Or a favour? A gentle nudge towards reconcilliation?

Abby turned to look at Tony, offering a sad smile that he couldn't return.

Twenty minutes later they were in the car. Still silent.

He had no idea where to even start, and so he decided to concentrate on the road.

Then he stopped at a red light.

"Tony," she said, and he wanted to cry. "I... can I stay?"

"At mine?" he asked, though he thought he knew what she meant. He watched her nod her head. Of course she could. Anything. Anything.

Once inside his apartment he switched on all the lights. He took a clean t-shirt, a pair of sweat pants, clean towels out of his wardrobe and placed them on the bed.

"You, ehm," he cleared his throat, "know where everything is. Have the bed."

She looked at the pile of clothes, her eyes so big, he wondered if they were going to fall out of her head.

"Get some sleep," he said and closed the door behind him.

He poured himself a large drink and tried to not think about anything at all.

She was alive.

When he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer, wrecked from exhaustion, drugs, beatings, dehydration and heart ache, he switched off the lights, lay down on the couch and surrendered.

When something woke him up he didn't know if he'd been asleep for a year or five minutes.

She stood in front of him, still fully clothes, wrapped in a sheet.

"Ziva. You okay?" he asked the stupidest question on Earth.

She didn't reply, just sat down, then curled herself in the tiniest little ball and lay down with him. He could feel her shaking violently, and he pulled her even closer, spooned her fully; they were still the perfect fit.

He kissed her hair, and breathed her in, and all the sudden, everything in him let go.

He cried, and he cried, and he cried, and he didn't care.

He didn't even care when he felt her get up in the morning and heard the door shut behind her.

He didn't care if he ever saw her again.

Because she was alive, and she would be fine.

And he still loved her.

And nothing else mattered.


End file.
